


Imagine Sam

by BlueNeutrino



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Cardiophilia, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Heartbeats, Medical Kink, Needles, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueNeutrino/pseuds/BlueNeutrino
Summary: A collection of Sam x reader ficlets originally posted to Tumblr, mostly with the theme of heartbeats and/or heartbeat kink.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Set in Season 2 preferably. Sam and reader finally decided to get close after his loss of Jess and he never thought he'd feel close to anyone else ever again. When he snuggles up to reader, the first thing he hears of the reader's heartbeat. And him describing it to the reader he realizes that he can fall in love again and he loves the reader.

It’s warm in bed. The hours have slipped peacefully from late evening into early morning, the room dark and tranquil. Sam’s head is a comforting weight on your chest, your fingers carding absently through his hair as you hold him close.

You’ve been lying like this for hours, comfortably silent after the passionate sex of earlier, enjoying each other’s warmth and the feel of each other breathing. Sam’s voice is soft when he finally speaks.

“Your heartbeat. It’s…it’s really beautiful.”

In the dark, you smile. “Um, thanks? You know it does that all by itself.”

He shifts in the bed, nuzzling closer. “It’s just…it makes me think.” There’s something in his voice, almost seeming far away though he’s trying to get physically close. “It reminds me of Jess.”

There’s a beat. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, after… after I lost her, I never thought I could be this close to somebody again. If I’d never hear her heartbeat again, I’d never hear anyone’s. But yours…” He trails off, taking a few seconds to listen. “It’s right here, still going. I can hear it: _th-thump th-thump_. You’re with me, and you’re alive. And I don’t ever want it to stop.”

He pauses again, and you suddenly realise you’re not breathing as he must have heard your heart begin to flutter. “Sam?”

It takes you by surprise when he moves, lifting his head to slide up to your eye level. It’s difficult to see in the dark, but you can feel his soft breath on your face. “I think what I’m trying to say is,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N, I love you.”

You’re almost glad he can no longer hear your racing heart, or see the blush spreading scarlet across your cheeks. “Sam…” You gasp, your hands moving to cup his face, rough stubble beneath your fingers. For a moment you’re in shock, not quite sure of what you’ve just heard, then your lips break into a smile. “I love you too, Sam.”

He leans in, meeting that smile with a kiss. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, and you feel his heart beating against yours. Now you know it belongs to you too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I can never find my own pulse, I think I’m dead.”

“I can never find my own pulse, I think I’m dead,” you sigh, looking down at your own wrist with a disgruntled frown as your fingertips dig in below your thumb.

Sam looks up from his laptop, smiling slightly. “Well, that makes you the hottest zombie I’ve ever met.”

You return the look with a pout. “You’ve never met a zombie. They don’t exist.”

“You’re the one who just said you’re dead. Not sure how I feel about being a necrophiliac.”

“Ew. Shut up.” You sigh again, but it doesn’t stop his teasing smile. “I should be able to do this. If I want to be an EMT, taking a pulse should be a pretty basic thing.” You cast a look over the study notes and equipment scattered round you, wondering how it is that you’ve trained for months to find the pulses on other people, yet on yourself it’s as elusive as the proverbial pea under the mattress.

Sam’s expression turns more serious, and he sets aside his laptop and crosses to you. “Some people just have shy veins,” he says, gently taking your hands in his then moving his thumb to your wrist. Your wrists are tiny in his grip, the blue vein just below the skin completely obscured under his touch. “Here,” he says after a moment or two. “Think I’ve got it.”

You give him a sceptical look. “Really?”

A grin plays over his lips. “Just to be sure.” Slowly, he raises your arm towards his mouth and then tenderly kisses your pulse point. Even if your veins feel as static as a rock, in your chest your heart flutters.

You give a half-hearted eyeroll. “Yeah, of course.”

“And hey, if you want to make extra certain, there’s always this.” He grasps for the stethoscope you’ve left on top of your anatomy book, then teasingly puts the ends in your ears. One hand moves to take the pulse at your neck, while the chestpiece he settles below your left breast.

You hear your own heart beat a little faster beneath his touch. “Yeah, definitely not dead,” he confirms with a smile.

“Alright, you got me,” you concede, grinning back as you feel at your own wrist again. “Maybe my pulse just needs a little encouragement?”

“I think I can provide that.” He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

When your heart skips again, you definitely feel the thump.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“I can hear your heartbeat.” The words slips from your mouth, soft and sleepy as you’re halfway towards unconsciousness.

You aren’t sure when you became aware of it. At some point, lying here with Sam’s arms wrapped around you, you began to recognise the sound coming from deep inside his chest. A gentle thumping against your cheek accompanies it, and it’s perfectly steady. Comforting.

You feel him sigh against your hair, though you aren’t 100% certain you aren’t already asleep and dreaming.

“And I feel yours,” he whispers.

That part you know you didn’t dream. You nuzzle against the pillow of his chest, losing yourself in his heartbeat lullaby, and drift to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your heartbeat is really strong.”

“Your heartbeat is really strong.”

You blush, staring down at the floor and hoping he won’t notice how your cheeks are starting to burn crimson. When you’d been assigned Sam Winchester as your lab partner, you couldn’t believe your luck to have been paired with the hottest guy in the class. Not long after, you quickly started to realise how much it’s also damn embarrassing. When you have to examine each other this intimately, him getting to place a stethoscope everywhere on your chest, there’s nowhere to hide. “Um, thanks. I try to keep in shape, y’know?” You dare glance up at him, and your heart rate kicks up a few notches.

“A little fast, too,” he remarks, and is that a smile on his lips (that you totally aren’t looking at)? Do you detect a hint of flirting? You blush redder.

“That doesn’t sound like a professional diagnosis to me, Winchester,” you tease, and your heart flutters all the more for your boldness.

“Alright,” he says, rising to the challenge. “S1 and S2 heard evenly at Erb’s point. No murmurs noted. Patient is slightly tachycardic.”

You lick your lips. “And what do you think could be causing that?”

“Hmm.” He puts on a face, pretending to be deep in thought. “Coffee, perhaps?”

“I haven’t had any coffee today.”

“Well, would you like to? After this, maybe we could, uh…” He pauses, for the first time stumbling over his words. “Maybe we could go get some?”

Holy shit. Is this…?  “Sam, are you asking me out?”

Now he’s the one who’s blushing. “Yeah, Y/N, I think I am.”

He glances down with an awkward smile, and it’s honestly adorable. You grin. “It’s a date.”


	5. Doctor Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Cardiologist!Sam giving the reader a -very- thorough exam...

“Deep breath,” the doctor instructs.

You do as you’re told, your chest rising and falling beneath the cold touch of the stethoscope. A blush is creeping its way across your skin, and you know your heart rate is rising as the doctor’s sparkling hazel eyes meet yours.

“Good,” he says without commenting on the change in pace, moving the diaphragm across your chest. “Now, deep breath and hold.”

His warm, very large hand spreads across your bare back to help you lean forward slightly, then he frowns in concentration as he listens for the splitting of your heart sounds. With your heartbeat so rapid, it’s a little harder for him, but he gives a satisfied nod and straightens up. “And breathe,” he says, readjusting the stethoscope so that the bell clicks into position. “I’m just going to take another listen. Breathe normally.”

You try, but you can’t help the way you’re squirming under both his gaze and the touch of his steth on your skin, warm fingers gripping it firmly. From the tiny smile settling on his lips, he’s noticed.

“All sounding good, Y/N,” he reports. “Just need to listen a lit bit lower…” He places the chestpiece directly between your breasts, and your heart leaps. That smirk widens a little when he hears it, tapping against his hand. “Just relax for me.”

You squeeze your thighs together, making the paper sheet beneath you rustle as your hands grip the edge of the exam table tighter. With him standing there in front of you, with that goddamn perfect face and those shoulders draped in a white labcoat and those huge hands pressing a steth to your chest, how can you be expected to relax?

He moves the chestpiece again, slips it under the wire of your bra, then frowns as he takes it away and replaces it with a fingertip. “I’m just going to feel for your apex beat,” he says, creeping his finger higher. Your heart thunders against it, as if seeking out his touch. “There,” he says, grinning. “Can I get you to take this off?”

You’re blushing, but a flirtatious little smirk has settled on your own face as you reach for the clasp of your bra, then purposefully look at his face as you pull it away.

The muscles in his throat work as he gulps. “G-good,” he says, at last faltering just slightly. “It sounds very loud just here.” He cups your left breast and lifts it, pressing the bell against your PMI. Then he goes silent for a minute, listening.

“Everything okay, Sa...I mean, Dr Winchester?” you ask after a few seconds.

“Just taking your apical pulse. Your heart sounds very healthy, if a little fast. I think I should perform a stress test, to be on the safe side.”

You flutter your eyelashes coyly. “And what would that involve?”

He lifts his eyes to meet yours, grin slowly spreading at the same rate as the scarlet flush in your cheeks, then he leans in and presses his lips to yours.

Your heart goes wild. You could swear you’re in vfib by the time he finally breaks the kiss, both of you panting heavily and chests heaving. “So, doc, am I okay?” you asks breathlessly.

“Hmm. Your heart hasn’t quite recovered yet,” he remarks. “I think more testing is in order.”

“Oh?” A seductive grin spreads over your lips. You flex your legs, hook your ankles around his hips to pull him in closer. Your hand wanders to his chest, feeling his own heart racing as you flutter your eyelashes again. “Well, doctor knows best…”


	6. Running On Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A commission for oneshoeshort on Tumblr, who wanted Sam taking care of an exhausted, burnt out reader.

Your hands are shaking.

For all your efforts to still them, clenching a fist as you breathe deeply and squeeze your bleary eyes shut, you’re losing the battle with the triple shot of espresso. Your third in six hours, and a far higher number than that in the past forty-eight. Sleep isn’t a luxury you’ve been able to afford recently.

With Jack missing - and now Cas too - it’s more imperative than ever that you find them. You’ve been poring over lore books for three days straight, broken only by the time taken to conduct fake FBI interviews and driving along the highway from lead to lead with the windows down to keep you awake.

Dean and Sam have been much the same. Well, no, that’s not quite true. They’ve actually been catching sleep in the early hours when they went to bed and you lied and said you did the same.

You just need this breakthrough, the one clue that you’re sure will make everything fall into place. And if pulling an all-nighter brings it around faster…

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice suddenly penetrates your awareness, and you realise your eyelids have been drooping.

Quickly, you straighten up, going to gulp down the rest of the coffee. “Oh, hey Sam.” Your voice sounds falsely chipper. Almost giddy.

His brow wrinkles in concern as he looks at you, taking in the grey circles under your eyes and your dull, pale skin. He can’t have missed the shaking in your hands. “What are you doing up?”

“Research,” you answer with a shrug. “Need to find Jack and Cas, right?”

“It’s 3am.”

“Demons aren’t gonna stop for sleep.”

“Yes, but you’re not a demon.” His frown deepens. “Have you been to bed at all?”

Sheepish, you squirm in your seat. “Maybe caught a couple of hours earlier…”

“A couple of hours isn’t going to bed. It’s extended napping. When was the last time you properly slept?” He takes a seat beside you, suddenly worried. “And that won’t help, either.” He pulls a face as he sniffs at your empty coffee mug, the strong scent of espresso lingering.

“I, uh…” You know you can’t lie. He’ll see right through it. “Three days ago. Maybe longer.”

Sam fixes you with a look, simultaneously admonishing and concerned. “Y/N…” he says exasperatedly, heaving a sigh. “You need to rest.” His hand goes to grasp the tome you’re poring through and slams it shut.

“Sam…”

“You won’t help anyone if you’re too tired to function. I can see you’re shaking.” Without warning, he takes hold of your wrist, and you feel his fingertips dig in below your thumb. The frown on his face deepens. “And your pulse is racing. How much coffee did you have?”

“Just a couple of espressos. I swear it wasn’t too much.”

His eyes narrow, dubious. “And how many times did you have a couple of espressos?”

The look on your face answers for you. Sam sighs.

“Alright, come on,” he says, and before you really know what’s happening he’s up and physically lifting you out of your chair and into his arms. “Time for bed. You’re long overdue a good night’s sleep.”

You’d protest except, well, you find you really don’t want to.

His chest is warm as you settle against it, and all too soon you’re in your room and he’s lying you down gently on your own bed.

“Like you haven’t been skipping sleep,” you mumble, a little indignant as he starts moving the covers around you. “What were you doing up, anyway?”

“Getting a glass of water,” he replies, though it’s not entirely convincing. “Besides, it’s not like I’m being as reckless as you. I’ve still been managing to catch at least five hours, and I’m not leaving until you’ve done the same.”

“Could be waiting a while. Think I’m still buzzing from the caffeine.”

“Exactly.” He looks anxious. “I know you don’t think of it this way, but caffeine’s still a drug. You can harm yourself with too much of it.”

You watch his movements through heavy-lidded eyes as he rifles through some of the drawers in your dresser, then takes out the stethoscope you know to be in the bottom one. Burgundy Littmann: your own from when you’d trained as an EMT.

“Okay, I’m just gonna check you haven’t managed to give yourself a heart attack,” he says, perching himself on the side of the mattress. “Just relax, and breathe normally.”

You shuffle slightly for him, propping yourself up on the pillows though you’re too wiped out to manage more. “Since when have you been trained to use that?” you mumble, but it isn’t a complaint.

“Since I dated a med student in college,” he answers. “Now shh.”

It’s tempting to let your eyes slip closed as he listens, but instead you make a point of keeping them open to watch his face. He hasn’t noticed, but you like the way he bites his lip in concentration, expression intense and focused.

“You know you’ve messed your heart rate up with that coffee,” he says, warm hands slipping under the hem of your top. “Could take another hour to come down.”

As if in confirmation, your heart flutters and gives another skip. “Mm. And what are we gonna do for that hour?”

You’re surprised, but pleasantly so when you feel him clamber into the bed beside you and pull you close to his chest. “Well, I’m gonna stay right here until I’m sure you’re alright.” He still has the stethoscope on, and readjusts to make sure he can listen comfortably. As you snuggle closer to him, you bring your ear to rest over his heart in symmetry, though the beat is a slow, steady contrast to your own. It’s comforting.

“What if you fall asleep first?” you murmur sleepily.

“I won’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Sure. Loser makes breakfast.”

Just as well you make awesome pancakes, because he wins. Before long, lulled by the sound of Sam’s gentle heartbeat, your exhaustion takes over and you drift off to sleep.

 


	7. Phlebotomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for an anonymous commissioner who wanted some nurse!Sam helping the reader with her fear of needles.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you feeling?”

The voice of the man entering the room is warm and friendly, and you glance over at the door to be greeted by an equally sunny smile in a face that catches you off guard with its attractiveness. You manage a nondescript “so-so” kind of noise in an attempt to disguise your nerves. You’re sure he notices anyway.

“I’m Sam, I’m gonna be your nurse today,” he continues, crossing over to you and thumbing through your file. “Y/N. Routine blood draw, is it?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Nervous?”

He has noticed, then. “Yeah, a little.”

“Alright, well I know it’s no fun being poked with needles, so I’ll try and make this as quick as I can.” He takes a seat beside you and gestures for your arm, which you hold out to him with a nervous gulp. Quickly and efficiently, he slips a tourniquet on above your elbow, and you feel your stomach churn.

“Hey, you’re doing great,” Sam reassures, beginning to feel for a vein. “I’ve had a few people faint before we even get to this point before. If you start to feel lightheaded, you just let me know, okay?”

You nod.

“Okay, good.” His fingers are warm and gentle (and really, really large) where they probe the inside of your arm. “Pulse is a little high,” he remarks, looking at you in concern. “You feeling okay?”

All you can do is shake your head.

“Alright,” he says, leaning closer and making a point of meeting your eyes. His expression is kind and encouraging. “You got this, Y/N. We’re gonna get you through this together. Now, I want you to try and take some deep breaths, nice and slow. In to the count of four, and out for seven.” He coaches you through it for a couple of cycles until you feel a little calmer. Those eyes are gorgeous, you can’t help but notice, soft hazel gazing at you intently. Simply looking at him helps take your mind off things.

After a moment or two, Sam gives a satisfied nod. “There, that’s it. You just keep that up, Y/N. You’re doing great,” he says, his attention back on your arm and rubbing an alcohol wipe over your skin. “You see that chart behind me?”

You glance over his shoulder to the see the poster pinned to the wall, and snort. “That’s not a chart. It’s a _Where’s Waldo_? in hospital.”

He grins. “How about if you find Waldo by the time I’m done, I’ll buy you a drink?”

Your heart gives a flutter. Is Sam the hot phlebotomy nurse flirting with you? “Aw come on, you said you’d make this quick.”

“I did. Here’s a clue: top right, there’s a big red sign that says ER. Slight pinprick. He’s hiding somewhere around there.” He slips the warning in so fluently you almost don’t notice when the needle pushes sharply through your skin into your vein. His huge hands hold it rock steady.

“Go on, you still have time,” he says, making sure you don’t watch as he fills up the vials of blood. “Keep looking, he’s somewhere next to…”

“The elevator,” you finish for him with a satisfied grin. “On the left.”

“You got it.” Sam pushes a cotton bud to the puncture site and pulls the needle out. It twinges a little, but you’re too distracted by the radiant smile he’s currently sending your way to notice. With practiced fingers, he tapes the cotton bud in place with gentle pressure, and you can breathe easy again.

“There, all done,” Sam says. “I believe I owe you a drink.”

You beam at him. “I believe you do.”


	8. Meditation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff by request on tumblr.

Yoga, breathing techniques, meditation… Truth be told, they aren’t really your thing. You hadn’t exactly thought they were Sam’s either, yet here he is, sat cross legged opposite you with his eyes closed and carefully controlling the movement of his chest.

You’re supposed to be doing the same. Instead, you’re watching.

In the background, there’s the quiet melody of calm meditation music playing from his laptop, though you can’t say it’s doing much to help soothe you. Sam breathes in to the count of four then out to the count of seven, and you watch his entire upper body rise and fall with the movement.

“Can you feel it working, Y/N?” he asks quietly, then the question turns into a sigh as he opens his eyes and realises you aren’t even trying. “Come on, you can’t know if it works unless you give it a go.”

You glance down sheepishly. “I know. I guess I’m just not really feeling it…”

“Here.” He’s close enough that your knees are touching, and he reaches out to take your hand and hold it to his chest. His skin is burning like a furnace. “Just try it once? For me?”

Not as reluctantly as you’d expected, you nod. You let him coach you through the breathing, following the beat of the music, and his chest rises and falls steadily beneath your hand. Against your fingertips, you realise you can feel his heart. It’s powerful, slow, and despite yourself you think you can feel the exercise working as you focus on the sound. All the stress, anxiety, and troubles fade into the background as all you can focus on is the steady reassurance of Sam’s beating heart.

You lose track of how long it’s been when the music finally stops, and you open your eyes to see him gazing down at you adoringly. He’s only inches away. You wish he was closer still.

“Better?” Sam asks.

You swallow and nod. “That was the end of the playlist.”

“Come here,” he says, opening his arms so you can finally break the meditation pose and snuggle against his chest. “I’ve got something better for you to listen to.”


End file.
